The skinny old man with a droopy moustache came into the dark bedroom. Parking his walking frame, -year-old Albert Fish slipped between the sheets snuggled up against the wool nightdress of Maggie. "I love you Maggie," he wheezed. "You stupid Casanova," grumbled Maud Macdonald . "Maggies in the next room, but you may as well stay here now. What do you have in mind?" "A fuck." "Whats that?" Albert explained and finally Mauds memory triggered and she

I walked against the wall of wind trying to prevent me from gaining access to what lay beyond. I leaned into it and pushed; it pushed back with half the force. It was only toying with me. I knew that the wind was an unrestrained creature with violent intent. It could no doubt hurl me to the frozen ground and bind me there like an insect helplessly bound to a spiders web but it did not.

Emily was moaning as we fucked, but in between the moans she talked about her younger sister, Mary. "She plays with herself all the time now, Daddy. Uhhhh. I swear, every time I go into our bedroom I see the sheets moving where her hand is frigging her little pussy. Ohhh, yes, Daddy, that feels good! Shes such a liar, though. She always says she just had an itch. Mmmmm." "Maybe shes old enough to join our games," I said, still screwing her.

A mothers love I I never thought I would treat my mother Heena as a woman until the day she made me realise I am the man of the house. Few months ago my dad died leaving me and my mother everything he could leave. As a result we have a house and some good cash in the bank. I am a state government employee earning a high salary. All my life I have been reckless when it came to handling house chores. I never bothered about them.

" My question was innocent enough, and yet she still looked up at me with wary eyes. "Im sorry, I dont. The bus should come soon though, Ive been here a while." I hesitated, and nodded. She went back to reading her book, and all I could do was stare. She was here every day, waiting to go home from where ever she had come. Usually the bus stop was packed but tonight it was only the two of us. She was so beautiful, I wondered why she didnt have anyone to pick her up- or a car of her own or something.

Tammy walked in from the back room and found me sitting there with a blank look on my face. She smiled at me and asked if I was ready for another beer. It took me a couple seconds to come back to reality and snap out of my bewildered state. "No," I told her, "I still have a couple drinks left in this one. Tammy nodded at me and gave me a knowing look that kind of worried me. What had she seen? Did she know that Kelly gave me head? Would she tell anyone

When we first started seeing each other, he told me that he would like me to take the initiative in bed occasionally. "Dominating?" I asked. I was a bit apprehensive about this. I had been brought up to believe that women were supposed to follow on...not take the lead in sex. And I was not sure how I would do in taking the lead. He insisted, that it was only a little bit of domination, it was more like starting the lovemaking on my own. I was definitely, but was willing to give it a try.

I thought I might share how we "normally" have sex with each other. Most erotic writing is about the "special occasion" stuff, but heres the kind of thing we do on the other days I was sleeping on my left side, facing away from him, hugging a pillow to my chest as I usually do. It began with the familiar touch on my right hip followed by a hand sliding down to the crease under my bottom. It was the middle of the night. Hubby was awake and was getting frisky. He was on his back and slid over beside me. He started groping with his left hand, doing who-knows-what with his right. Through the fog of half-sleep, I relaxed and enjoyed it.

Cecilia was my secretary in a Bangalore-based company. She is a Malayali Christian married to a Tamil guy who works in Dubai. Cecilia had two children then. She used to wear tasteful dresses - matching saree and blouse, and the like. She wouldnt expose any skin, except a little bit of her midriff. She had a full figure. With a bindi on her forehead and jasmine flowers on her hair, she reminded me

I stood alone at the bar, the friends I had come with somewhere in the club. We had gotten separated shortly after entering. I felt the music pounding in the pit of my belly. Several times I was approached and asked to dance, but I always said no. I knew I looked good that night. Dressed in a short white leather skirt, bare legs, a pair of high white stilettos with straps that crisscrossed my ankles, and a soft pink top that clung to my curves with